


History

by vsnow



Series: Grindeldore One-Shots [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, It's really just fluff until it's not, M/M, Memories, Sad Ending, Sweet and slightly OOC, looking back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 19:20:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17330873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vsnow/pseuds/vsnow
Summary: They say that history is written by the victors. How unlucky for history that Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was a liar.





	History

**_A/N:_ ** _Very short fic. I caught a cold suddenly and just had the urge to write something fluffy and sweet. Then it merged with another idea and came out as this. As always, thank you for reading and for your comments <3_

* * *

 

They say that history is written by the victors. How unlucky for history that Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was a liar.

* * *

So warm and comfortable.

He could stay like this, wrapped in his lover’s arms, for hours.

Albus felt it a shame, for he knew he had to open his eyes eventually. He knew he must have been expected home hours ago.

Blue eyes opened to a dimly lit room, the curtains were drawn in such a way that blocked almost any light from entering. Albus’s vision felt distorted and he realized that he had fallen asleep in his reading glasses. They were pressed uncomfortably against his face in a way that would surely leave a mark.

The glass fogged and cleared as steady breaths rose and fell from behind him. Albus did not have to turn to know who it was.

When had they fallen asleep?

Albus did not know. As of late the pair had been spending long hours, together and separately, staying up until the wee hours of the morning. Research and reading taking up the majority of their time. And when they needed a break sleep was far from their mind. It seemed as though their strenuous routine had finally caught up with them. Reading on the bed might not have been the best idea as sleep had come far too quickly on the soft surface.

Gellert was rolled on his side, holding the other close to his chest. Albus felt a slow gentle kiss placed against his hair.

“Gellert?” He asked to no response.

 _Dreaming?_ But what about? Albus wondered, quietly thanking the stars that had aligned so perfectly that they could meet.

Albus hated to move, he hated the idea of waking the other, of ending this moment. Steadily he slide his arm across the other, finding Gellert’s empty hand with ease. He intertwined their fingers gently, feeling the heartbeat pass between them. A content smile rose to his face as he felt the unconscious response. Gellert held tightly, twitching slightly as he dreamt. It was more than enough for Albus to give in.

_Maybe I can stay for only a moment longer._

He closed his eyes, listening to every breath.

In.

Out.

Every so often a deep breath would tickly at this ear casing this cheeks to prickle, surely flushing a light pink.

_Okay, perhaps another hour or two wouldn’t hurt._

If Aberforth hadn’t come looking for him already everything was probably well.

Unfortunately it was not meant to be. Gellert shifted, stretching his body out like a cat.

Albus took this time to roll over to face his love. He was met with open but very sleepy eyes.

Gellert placed a sleepy kiss on his lips before closing his eyes once more, “Sleep.” He urged the other before unceremoniously yawning.

Albus couldn’t help but smile at the adorable site, despite what had to be done, “I have to go home.”

Arms and legs constricted around him in response, refusing to let go. “Stay.” Came another one worded response.

Both knew full well that it was not an option.

Albus peppered kisses all over Gellert’s face, before nuzzling closer himself, hoping it would be enough to convince the other to set him free, “You’re so needy sometimes.”

And though he knew it to be true, Gellert could only scoff, “You think you can just sleep with me and leave before morning.”

“But we didn’t-“ Albus began, searching his memory.

“-yet today.”

Albus decided to ignore him, “And besides, it’s hard to tell but I’m sure it is already afternoon at least.” He let his fingers run though perfectly curled blond hair one last time, “I am needed at home.”

_You are needed here, with me._

Gellert did not need to speak these words. Albus understood as he felt the other hesitate as he let go.

They had been over this before.

_“Which would you chose? To stay here with your family or leave with me?”_

_“You know the answer.”_

_“And, it is…?”_

“I love you.” Albus gave Gellert’s forehead a long kiss before rising to his feet, “Soon it will be night again and you will hear me tapping at your window. I will be back before you know. Rest until then. We need to get work done.”

“Don’t forget.”

“I could never.” Albus chuckled at the absurd thought.

Gellert smiled, content with the response, “Till night then. I love you.”

* * *

 

They say that history is written by the victors. How unlucky for history that Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was a liar.

The aged man clutched the elderwand tightly in a cursed hand.

_No one needs to know._

Headmaster Dumbledore raised the wand to his temple.

Memories of love-filled, lazy, and ambitious summer days spilled forth. He felt the warmth of those days, and the pain of loss, leave him.

It was both a freeing and empty feeling.

One would question why he had masochistically kept the memories. And at this point in time… he himself did not remember.

He destroyed the memories the same way he had with the letters and any other incriminating evidence, leaving only what he wished to share with the world behind.

Gellert was the last of those memories.

Gellert?

Albus tried to think of the man only to find that there was nothing…

Who was Gellert Grindelwald but a dark wizard he had defeated?

Who was he beyond a criminal currently housed in Nurmengard Castle?

Albus looked at a single photograph he had left of the man. A wave of empty nostalgia, a longing for something he did not remember washed over him.

_I ____ ___._

He could almost hear a voice say. But with that incomplete thought he tossed the image into the flames.


End file.
